Page 84 of All I Need (Hearts of the South)
She gave up on figuring out the complicated belt-over-a-belt configuration he wore and focused instead on shedding her shoes and scrub pants, which she folded over the back of the truck. The damp grass was smooth and cool under her bare feet. He unsnapped the top belt holding all his duty gear and placed it on the front seat, then reached for his belt buckle.
That one she could handle. Fingers folded into his waistband, she pulled him nearer, then fumbled his belt and fly open. He shoved the truck door closed and backed her against it. He pushed up her scrub top to rub his thumbs across her nipples inside her satin bra. The smooth abrasion sent desire zinging between her legs. He was already hard, and she curved a hand around his erection, sliding from base to tip and back again. Her reward was the throaty sound she loved, somewhere between a gasp and a harsh sob.
She leaned in, still stroking him, and bit at the uninjured part of his lower lip. “Did I mention my blood tests were as clean as yours?”
“Holy fuck.” He surged against her hand, and she laughed, swiping her thumb over the damp head of his erection. He slipped his hands under her thighs, lifting her against the door. Her breasts pressed against the rigidity of his bulletproof vest covering his chest, and polyester scratched at her thighs.
And she’d thought the way he walked in uniform was sexy.
Anticipation lay heavy in her belly. She wrapped herself around him. “Do not drop me.”
Hips pinning hers, he placed himself at her entrance and drove home. “How many times do I have to tell you I won’t let you fall?”
Caught between cool metal and warm male thighs, she burned. The angle allowed for short, stabbing thrusts, his pubic bone rubbing her clit on each stroke.
He’d been serious about hard, but she loved it, the power of each lunge into her, a swirl of almost-pain mixed with pleasure. This was raw and bare, a release of pent-up intensity. She could so deal with being the focus of that.
The vest made the wall of his chest inflexible, her swollen breasts, clad in softest satin, rubbing against unmovable strength. His badge pressed a cold metal kiss to the slope of her breast.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been thisnakedwith anyone.
Hands at his nape, she dug her nails into his skin. He gasped near her ear, that raw sound of desire like a punch to the gut. The heavy pressure in her belly and between her thighs increased, and the short thrusts kept her climax tantalizingly out of reach.
“Emmett,please.” She grabbed at his hair. He was holding her, controlling everything, and she couldn’t move to deepen the contact. The frustration of that only made the wanting more intense.
He shifted his stance, allowing for a deeper penetration into her body. She came, a scream torn from her throat, and a raw shout accompanied his own orgasm. He gasped, laughing, and propped one hand against the truck, supporting her with his other arm. His laughter, combined with heaving deep breaths, traveled through her body with tiny aftershocks of pleasure.
Still holding her easily against him, he nuzzled her jaw. “Love you.”
The words twisted into her heart, and she cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “I can handle a little hurt with you. It reminds me I’m alive.”
Chapter Sixteen
For once, Savannah left the ER on time, after a slow Monday with only a trickle of cases. She slid her sunglasses on against the late-afternoon sun and descended the steps from the ER. A familiar pickup cruised into the parking lot and angled into a spot down from her own car. Anticipation curled through her, pulse picking up.
Oh, she loved seeing him at the end of the day.
He met her at the car and rested his forearm on the roof while she opened the driver’s door and tossed her bag on the passenger seat. “So I know where there’s a brand-new bed, with brand-new bedding, just waiting for us to try it out.”
“Really.” She smiled. Apparently, the house was finally ready, after a delay that had pushed his move-in date past the weekend. He’d spent Saturday packing and helping Landra run errands—including purchasing a used car—while Savannah covered shifts at the hospital. Sunday morning, he’d done church with Clark and Landra while Savannah crashed. They’d managed to catch an hour or so together before she’d been called back to the hospital. Exhaustion pulled at her, and she really needed a shower.
“Really.” His gaze gentle on her face, he brushed the hair falling loose from her knot behind her ear. “Grab what you need for a couple of days and meet me at the house.”
She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and leaned up to brush her mouth over his. “Sounds wonderful.”
At home, she showered and changed, then shoved clothes and toiletries in her weekender bag. The sun rested behind the treetops when she pulled into Emmett’s drive. He’d left her the parking spot closest to the steps. Shouldering her bags and juggling a sack of Chinese takeout, she walked upstairs to the French doors and let herself in. The sharp scent of fresh paint hung in the air, and the leather couch, chair, and ottoman they’d selected anchored the living space, bare of any personal or decorative items. A handful of cardboard boxes sat in a neat line along the wall. She set the takeout bag on the gleaming kitchen counter.
“Emmett?”
“In the bedroom.”
That room took her breath, as she’d expected it would. The moody gray paint highlighted the wooden trim, framing the gorgeous views of river and pine woods. The white bedding on the dark wood headboard they’d finally agreed on after a second visit to Sundries contrasted with the deeper colors and whispered an invitation for lazy weekend mornings.
She smiled at Emmett, who was hanging fresh-from-the-cleaners uniforms in the closet. “This is gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
